


in the hours of the aftermath

by crazinaway



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode: s04e18 Shooting Star, M/M, Reaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazinaway/pseuds/crazinaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'She’s white as a ghost and seems almost sickened, and before he can question it she says, slowly and brokenly, “There was a shooting at McKinley this morning. No one’s hurt.”'</i>
</p><p>Reaction fic for 4x18, ’shooting star’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the hours of the aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> (warnings: school-shooting)

No one bothers telling Kurt personally; no one informs him, or calls him, or explains anything that is going on -- Tina sends him an unexplained text saying _i always looked up 2 u_ , and Artie sends him a message via Facebook saying that he always believed Kurt would make it in the world and become something bigger than all of them, but they don’t offer any other explanation.

He assumes, foolishly, that it’s a part of a Glee club assignment and sends a _thanks, u 2!_ , back, with a smiley.

But then Santana gets the call from Brittany, and the skies are already dark as it is late and it’s night and despite it being Brittany, they know she won’t call at this hour for no reason -- not when Santana made her a phoning schedule and hung it over her desk at Lima, making sure she knew exactly when to call.

Santana answers the call with a soft smile, licking the melted cheese off her finger as Brittany says something on the line, and in a split of a second Santana’s smile drops and she screeches, “ _What_?” and rushes to leave the table, covering her other ear and hurrying away to talk to Brittany in private.

Rachel throws Kurt a confused look over their dinner, but he shrugs in response and resumes eating, as it’s Brittany and it’s most likely about her and Sam breaking up, or someone saying something mean to her in school, causing Santana to burst.

Santana doesn’t return to the table, so Rachel and Kurt finish eating by themselves.

 

*

 

It’s even later that night, and Rachel is marathoning a Spanish TV show while Kurt offers the occasional witty remark -- because neither of them has classes the next morning and to be quite honest, going out to clubs and bars isn’t exactly their thing, so what better way to spend a free night as roommates?

Santana drops down on the armchair halfway through the episode, and Kurt intends to ask her what the sudden disappearance was about, but then he looks at her face; she’s white as a ghost and seems almost sickened, and before he can question it she says, slowly and brokenly, “There was a shooting at McKinley this morning. No one’s hurt.”

Spanish is chattered on screen, but none of the three is listening anymore.

 

*

 

The moment they get over the shock, Kurt nearly runs to his room and picks up his cell-phone, speed-dialing Blaine’s number as quickly as he can.

There’s no answer.

(He leaves two messages anyway.)

 

*

 

There’s a silent agreement between the three of them that sleep is not necessary that night -- unnecessary when you discover the school you went to less than a year ago has been through a shooting, that a number of your friends have been present, that it’s so close and yet so far and had something have happened, you wouldn’t have known until it was too late.

Kurt feels sick to his stomach when he imagines Blaine, curled up against the wall in a corner of the choir room, small and afraid with tear tracks down his cheeks as he thinks the next minutes may be his last; Kurt almost throws up on the floor when he realizes Blaine would be the one standing in front of his friends, protecting them, helping them be safe above all else including his own safety because his brain is a one-track way under pressure, and his own well-being is never a priority.

Kurt rises up and inhales a deep breath as his head gets dizzy and his feet feel unstable, images of the shooter actually getting to Blaine, standing above him and threating his life filling his mind.

By his side, on the couch, Rachel hugs herself and breaks down crying.

 

*

 

They fall asleep nevertheless, nearing six in the morning after three calls to Tina, two to Artie and Sam, and one to Mr. Schue, hoping maybe he’d answer. None of them pick up and eventually Rachel tries Finn, who answers in a wrecked voice, near tears, and says he’s been told less than two hours ago.

The three of them pass out curled with each other on the couch, Kurt pressed against Rachel’s back and Santana half on top of them both, all three of their hands laced together, clutching each other’s’ fingers until their knuckles turn white.

It’s somewhere between eleven and twelve in noon when Kurt’s phone buzzes on the living-room table and he shoots up, grabbing it and barking an, “Oh my god are you okay?” into the phone as soon as he sees Blaine’s name on the screen.

Santana and Rachel let go of him without another word.

 

*

 

“-- I’m really okay, Kurt, it was just…”

“The most terrifying thing you’ve ever been through?”

“Well, I, I mean, I won’t say the _most_ terrifying thing, there was this time we walked in on Finn and Rachel --“

“B, _don’t_. Just -- don’t turn this into a joke, okay? I can’t --“

Kurt’s voice cracks and he stops to breathe in, running a hand over his face as he tries not to let his tears fall.

“I’m fine,” Blaine whispers into the phone, less confident and less fake, less like he’s trying to please Kurt and more like he’s letting go. “I was just… For a minute there, I really thought we were going to -- you know, and I just, I haven’t even said goodbye to my parents, or Cooper, or -- or Tina, or _you_ , and --“

“No,” Kurt cuts him off, hand unconsciously moving to clutch at the edge of his bed. “No, no, don’t you dare, don’t you _dare_ say goodbye to me if this -- if something like this ever happens, B, no, I promised, I _promised_ I won’t say goodbye to you, and…”

Blaine inhales on the other side of the line and finally breathes out, “I know, it’s why I didn’t.”

Kurt bites his lips, a single tar escaping. “I haven’t even -- I haven’t even told you everything I want to, never got to spend as much time with you as I want, I -- we never really talked about, about…”

About us, Kurt wants to say. We never got to talk about _us_ , about the mistakes I made and the mistakes _you_ made and the mistakes we made _together_ , never got to talk about fixing it or moving on together, hands laced, because I _can’t_ live without you. I don’t _want_ to. We never got to move in together into New York, you never got to go to college, we never got to go to dates in unknown restaurants in the city and explore it together, never got to kiss on every rainy day from now until forever; never got to graduate college together or propose, never got to get married and start a family and be as happy as could be until our very last day.

We never got to share our lives the way I always wished we would, Kurt wants to say, but doesn’t.

“We never really talked about the many horrific stories I have from my newly official roommating situation,” he finishes instead, and it’s not what he meant and they both know it, but it startles a throaty laugh out of Blaine and there is no sound more heartwarming than that one, in that moment. He feels bad, knows that it’s not fair he didn’t let Blaine brush his own fears away with a joke and a smile but let himself do that thoughtlessly, but he just – can’t, can’t bring himself to say all that is between them, can’t let himself acknowledge the demons he’d rather stay buried deep.

“I’m okay, Kurt,” Blaine says, his voice scratchy and low and Kurt knows he’s been tearing up, as well. “We have all the time in the world.”

“Good,” Kurt answers, “Because Santana’s antics alone require a whole weekend by this point.”

Blaine laughs and Kurt breaks into a small smile, and the conversation happening underneath the surface, in the small letters between the lines, make both boys’ hearts swell from the same reasons, miles apart.


End file.
